


Under the Mistletoe

by ellebeedarling



Series: Christmas 2017 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Party, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Mistletoe, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/pseuds/ellebeedarling
Summary: It never ceased to amaze how the feel of Steve Rogers’ lips against his own could be so god damned satisfying, like the earth moving, stars aligning shit that only really existed in fairytales and Hollywood. And in his own little marvelous universe, apparently.





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparkly_butthole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/gifts).



> For my dear friend sparkly_butthole!
> 
> Merry Christmas darling!! I can honestly say I never expected to write a Stucky thing, but that is what love will do to you! :) You have become a treasured friend over the last year. Inspiring me and encouraging me to become a better writer. Consoling with me over woes and miseries, and just generally being a great and genuine person. Love you! <3
> 
> Rated M for language.

Stark had outdone himself. Bucky would hand the man that. His apartment at Avengers Tower was decked out in the fanciest Christmas decorations he’d ever seen. Every surface boasted some sparkling bit of festiveness, be it greenery with red ribbons, piles of silver balls that Bucky wouldn’t doubt were made of sterling silver and encrusted with diamond dust, or twinkling white lights. 

 

It was tasteful. Classy even. 

 

Two words which could never be used to describe the man himself. 

 

Tony worked the crowd, schmoozing and pretending to make nice. All the while he tossed around little insults that typically went over his guests’ heads. Stark was in his element, and Bucky would admit a certain amount of envy over that fact. 

 

Bucky was decidedly  _ not _ in his element. 

 

The proffered booze was too rich for his Brooklyn-trained taste buds, particularly since nothing tasted like much of anything after his body had been transformed by the serum. The food was weird, and he was carefully avoiding the servers in black tuxedos carrying silver platters of morsels too small to be called a biteful. 

 

He’d pointed out to Steve at one point that the toast looked like it had piles of shit on it. The reality was even worse - piles of fish eggs that rich fucks paid an arm and a leg for. He wasn’t going to touch it with a ten foot pole. 

 

Stark eventually made his way over to where the Soldier was attempting to blend in with the paint on the walls. “Having fun?” he asked. 

 

“Not particularly.” 

 

Tony laughed and clapped him on the shoulder of his metal arm. Bucky merely responded with a dark scowl. 

 

“Do you even know how to have fun?” 

 

“Not in these types of situations.” 

 

“Too busy watching the door?”

 

Bucky’s gaze flicked to where the Captain of the squad stood, beer in hand and a smile nine miles wide. Stevie looked every bit the poster boy for good and moral conduct that the Army had wanted him to be back in the day. Clean-cut and wholesome, and so fucking gorgeous.

 

There was a knowing smirk on Stark’s face when Bucky met his eyes again. “Not the door then,” he grinned with a smugness that made him want to rip the man’s face off. 

 

“Not the door,” Bucky conceded.

 

“Well aren’t you the little chatterbox? Did you try the caviar?” he asked snagging one of the shit-piled pieces of toast from a passing server and waving it toward Bucky. 

 

“No thanks.” 

 

Stark sighed. “I’m trying here, Barnes. The least you could do is make some sort of effort to fit in.” 

 

“Not interested in fitting into your world, Stark. Thanks for the lovely party. Excuse me.” 

 

He was ready to be done with this party and all the pretentious fucks in attendance. As he stalked toward his lover on the other side of the room, he was reminded of Christmases long ago. Just him and Stevie with barely two dimes to spare between them, crammed into a dinky little bed in a dinkier apartment. The walls had been made of paper and the place was draftier that Aunt Ethel’s bloomers. It was a place to call home, though. And somewhere, somehow, his brain had clung to those fragmented memories, tiny threads for his Stevie to grasp hold of and use to pull him out of the clouds and fog of years of torment. 

 

Buck owed Steve his life, and he damn well knew it. 

 

Those sweet baby blues of Steve’s met Bucky’s, and the man’s face lit up like the Star of Christmas. Buck cursed the fact that he could never quite seem to control his breathing when Stevie looked at him like that. Those crystal blue eyes flicked toward the ceiling in suggestion, and when Bucky followed his gaze, he grinned. 

 

Hanging just a couple feet about Steve’s gorgeous head was a sprig of greenery and little white berries, trimmed out with red and silver ribbon that hung around it in billowy curls. 

 

Steve winked at him when Buck met his eyes again, the cutest damn smirk on the planet twisting his lips. Bucky licked his own in response, eyebrows bouncing upwards for a moment, accompanied by another quick smile. He moved closer to Steve, who wrapped an arm around his waist when he was within range, tugging him closer still. 

 

“You’re going to ruin your reputation,” Bucky told him. 

 

“I don’t give a damn about my reputation.” 

 

“Language, Captain,” Buck teased, appreciating the scoff and eyeroll he got in return. 

 

“You gonna quit screwing around and kiss me, or what?” 

 

“Maybe if you’ll quit your yappin’.”

 

It never ceased to amaze how the feel of Steve Rogers’ lips against his own could be so god damned satisfying, like the earth moving, stars aligning shit that only really existed in fairytales and Hollywood. And in his own little marvelous universe, apparently. 

 

Their mouths worked in tandem, perfect synchronicity as always, with that subtle ebb and flow that they seemed to fall back on. Bucky would readily admit that he was a more greedy lover than his Stevie could ever be, but how was he expected to show restraint when this beautiful man was constantly smack in the middle of his orbit. 

 

Steve’s mouth tasted faintly sweet, like the miniature pies that floated around the room on trays. Heat radiated throughout Bucky’s body, and the dizziness he felt was not from the lack of oxygen. Stevie just made him feel this way all the damned time. 

 

Time stood still for them, like it knew they were meant for each other and just needed this fucking moment to last as long as possible. God knew how much time they had left. Everything and its brother had tried to kill them already, to take them away from each other, to keep them apart. But they’d fought and scraped, scrounged and killed to get back to each other, against all odds and probabilities. 

 

So they stayed, drifting into one another, targets locked. And they tasted, gorging themselves like men starved. Arousal stirred in their bellies fueled by the love they felt for one another, and when they finally dared to separate, the pesky need for oxygen winning out over any emotion, the lust-glazed, bluer-than-blue eyes that stared back at him made Bucky’s heart skip more than just a beat. 

 

“What do you say we blow this party?” 

 

Steve smiled that angelic smile of his. “Lead the way.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Stucky fic. Hope it wasn't terrible. :) Thanks for reading! 
> 
> An extra special thanks to [estalfaed](https://estalfaed.tumblr.com) for helping me polish this up! You're the best hon!! :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [ellebeedarling](https://ellebeedarling.tumblr.com)
> 
> Much love,  
> Elle


End file.
